


a single, very happy memory

by bleedcolor



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen, Introspection, Pre-Snarry if you care to take it that way, Severus alone with his thoughts, not exactly cheerful, set in DH
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-02
Updated: 2021-02-02
Packaged: 2021-03-14 00:42:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29162850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bleedcolor/pseuds/bleedcolor
Summary: As the end of the war approaches, Severus Snape considers what he has left.
Comments: 3
Kudos: 19





	a single, very happy memory

**Author's Note:**

> An extremely short ficlet or a long drabble, written some time ago and unearthed from the bottom of my google docs.
> 
> _"...The Patronus is a kind of positive force, a projection of the very things that the Dementor feeds upon — hope, happiness, the desire to survive — but it cannot feel despair, as real humans can, so the Dementors can’t hurt it. But I must warn you, Harry, that the charm might be too advanced for you. Many qualified wizards have difficulty with it."_  
>    
> _"And how do you conjure it?"_  
>    
> _"With an incantation, which will work only if you are concentrating, with all your might, on a single, very happy memory."_
> 
> _\-- **Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban**_ , J.K. Rowling

Even as a student, Severus had never noticed how cold McGonagall’s eyes could turn, the way the corner of her mouth twisted downward when she was truly displeased. His school days had seen hands perched on hips, lips pursed in annoyance, enough points taken and detentions assigned to make him think twice about crossing paths with his Transfigurations professor, but he had never realized that even then he had been safe from any true wrath on her part. When he’d returned to Hogwarts to teach their relationship had changed, as it must, and yet he had never quite lost the wariness he’d gained of Minerva as a student. 

He didn’t realize how much he would miss the soft snorts of amusement when he made a dry observation, the way her eyes would meet his, alight with commiseration, when Albus was being particularly ostentatious. But, then, that was the problem: he had killed that small easiness between them as surely as he had killed Dumbledore. 

He looked down at the sword in his hand, the large ruby in the pommel glittering even in the moonlight. Whatever friendships, such that they were, he’d once had were gone. In the quiet of the forest it pressed down on him, startling outside of the noise of the castle. He had nothing. Quiet breaths panted out of him and drifted away, silver against the darkness. A wild thought crossed his mind; if he left now, fled to the abandoned reaches of the world and never looked back, he might survive this war after all.

But he would still have nothing. Even as he thought it, the soft murmur of conversation drifted out from a patch of emptiness a few yards ahead and Severus leaned against the tree closest to him with a ragged sigh. The boy. Green eyes flashed through his mind, angry and suspicious-- the only way the boy had ever looked at him. He still had something after all.

“ _Expecto Patronum_.”


End file.
